


The Third Time

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Worship, Bottom John, M/M, POV Sherlock Holmes, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Sherlock, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 16:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1476304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The third time is the first time when Sherlock can really admire the handsome specimen that is John Watson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Third Time

This was the third time Sherlock and John were embarking on intercourse. The first time had been a post case blur on the sofa. The second had been a furtive night assignation after a nightmare. But now it was afternoon, bright daylight streaming through Sherlock's window as he settled against the pillows. 

John stepped into the room, slightly nervous smile on his face. While Sherlock watched he unbuttoned his shirt and started to pull it off. "John," Sherlock breathed, darting to the end of the bed. 

Freezing, the shirt just off his shoulders and halfway down his arms, John watched his lover. Sherlock ran his hands up his vest and down the muscles of his bare arms. "I should commission a sculpture," muttered Sherlock. 

John cupped the back of his head and pulled him into a deep kiss. He broke it and rested his forehead against Sherlock's. "Not hardly." He deposited the shirt on the floor and pulled back to peel off his vest. 

Scraps of poetry bounced through Sherlock's head as he took in the sight, sunlight shining through John's hair, his eyes shadowed to gunmetal gray. "You're staring," chided John, pushing him back onto the bed and climbing on top of him. 

"How can I not?" Asked Sherlock. He ran his hands up John's arms and onto his chest, fingers moving over the topography of the scar until John grasped both his wrists and pinned his hands to the bed. 

Leaning down, John captured his mouth again, kissing him lazily, rolling his hips against Sherlock's quickly growing erection. Both of them still trapped by trousers and pants, cotton and silk adding to the friction. Sherlock moaned softly and opened his mouth more. 

Breaking the kiss, John dismounted to remove his trousers and pants. "Go on, Sherlock. Get your own off so I can ride that beautiful cock."

A blush crept down Sherlock's pale skin as he quickly undressed, feeling John's eyes on him. "Good," praised John, running a hand up his slender thigh. Sherlock's cock twitched appreciatively and he licked his lips as John took the lube from the drawer and straddled him again. 

There were few more beautiful sights, Sherlock decided, then John Watson's head going back as he started fingering himself. His cock stood out proudly, chest muscles still firm. The scar did nothing to mar the sense of power emanating from the man atop of him. Suddenly Sherlock realized he'd forgotten to breathe. 

The sharp intake of air drew John's attention. Dropping his head, John cupped his cheek, worry dancing in his eyes. "You okay, love?"

Sherlock nodded and nuzzled his hand, not trusting his words. It was a good hand, strong, calloused from handling his gun. Experimentally he stuck out his tongue and ran it slowly up his ring finger. Just the faintest taste of gunpowder and steel. He must have cleaned the weapon this morning. 

"Sherlock," John moaned, making the detectives cock ache. He sucked two of John's fingers into his mouth, watching pleasure wash across his face as he laved his tongue over them. 

"Christ," John muttered, pulling his hand back. He shifted and braced himself with his other hand as he pushed the spit-slick fingers inside himself, eyes closing. Sherlock moaned and rocked up against him. Opening his eyes again he smiled at Sherlock. "I think I'm ready for you."

Sherlock watched as he moved up against him. He groaned as he felt his cock push past the tight ring of muscle. John bore down on him, tight heat enveloping his sensitive member until Sherlock grabbed his hips and thrust up the last inch, burying himself fully in John's body. 

John panted as he adjusted, planting a hand on Sherlock's chest as he started to ride him. Sherlock noted the trails of sweat starting down John's chest, catching in the light hair that led down to his magnificent cock. He wrapped a large hand around it and watched the deep blue eyes shutter again. "Just like that."

Sherlock could feel his own orgasm starting to coil and draw his balls up. But his intense focus was only on John, on seeing his soldier start to crumble apart, steadily moving up and down, breath panting and short, pre-cum wetting his hand. 

Suddenly John opened his eyes again and rolled them over. "Fuck me, you lazy bastard," he growled, leaning up to bite Sherlock's throat, fingers yanking his head to the side by the hair. 

Sherlock gave a strangled whimper and started to move, John wrapping his legs around his hips and rocking up against him. They both groaned as Sherlock struck deep, John's free hand scratching down his back. "Harder," he ordered in Sherlock's ear. 

There was no choice but to obey. Sherlock rested his forearms tight against John's shoulders. Sweat dripped in his eyes as he started moving harder, faster. John's steel eyes captured his own, urging him on. He was marginally aware John was stroking himself, unable to look away from the fire searing his soul. 

John clenched around him. Sherlock shouted, as he came, head dropping against the wounded shoulder. John came hotly between them, murmuring praises in his ear as he pet his hair. "So good for me love."

Sherlock nuzzled his neck. John nudged him to roll off, but he clung tighter. Chuckling, John forced him over onto his back. Smiling fondly down at him he wiped the hair from Sherlock's eyes. Sherlock leaned up to steal a quick kiss. 

John returned it, love clear in his eyes. Sherlock admired the view as John padded into the bathroom and returned with a warm rag to wipe him up. Sherlock stole another kiss as he turned to take it back to the sink. 

Finally John came back and pulled Sherlock against his chest. Sherlock tucked his head under his chin and idly fingered the damp hair on his lovers chest. Right now there was no better place to be as he felt John fall asleep underneath him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to willie_the_plaid_jacket for inspiration. Also type_40_consulting_detective and TheMadKatter13 for reading along.
> 
> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
